


They are subtle

by SrebrnaFH



Series: Legacy of Responsibility [9]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Magic, Mentorship, Nightmares, Peter Needs a Hug, Peter swears, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), decimation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 14:19:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19252915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SrebrnaFH/pseuds/SrebrnaFH
Summary: Peter needs some space, but he also needs help.





	They are subtle

**Author's Note:**

> I kind of see Strange stepping in, reluctantly, when the kid with too much tech at his disposal gets depressive.  
> Also, I think he likes Peter.

"Fuck!"

Kick. Splash.

"Fucking fuckity arse!"

Kick, kick. Splash. Splish.

"Goddamnfuck dickety shit!"

Kick. SPLASH.

"You kiss your aunt with that mouth?"

The cool male voice sounded politely curious.

Peter twirled in place, turning away from yet another rock he had been planning to kick into the lake. There was a wizard sitting on the porch stairs, stretched languidly in the sun.

"How long have you been watching me?" he barked.

"You’ve been at it for the last hour and twenty-two minutes," Stephen Strange informed him with a small smile. "The level of water in the lake has not risen significantly, but you’ve started to be repetetive," he threw something at Peter, who fetched the apple from the air without even looking. "Also, you may be feeling the results of low blood sugar. Eat this and then, if you feel more like communicating with something sentient, we can talk."

Peter wiped the apple on his nearly clean t-shirt and bit into it.

"How did you know I was here?"

"I felt a disturbance in the Force," the wizard deadpanned.

Peter frowned at the older man, very much unamused.

"Pepper Potts called me," Stephen rolled his eyes. "Can we go inside now? I’m in a dire need of a coffee."

"Not sure if there is any," he shrugged. "But I think I saw a coffee machine, so maybe there is some coffee, too."

There was, in fact, an air-tight container of well-roasted beans, of which Doctor Strange scooped out a cupful and glared it at for a moment, until they turned into ground coffee. Soon, they were sitting at the living room table, Peter sipping a soda and the magician holding a huge mug, inhaling the vapour greedily.

"Are you feeling better now, sir?"

Strange grimaced.

"We got a few acolytes. Wong is hopeful. Me, not so much."

"They are that bad?"

"No, I'm just a depressively pessimistic sod. My main role is predicting how everything may fail in a spectacular way," he tasted the coffee and made an appreciative sound. "This, however, it way better than I expected. Now, then. You've had a moment to rest, you have had something sweet to replenish your blood sugar. Yet you are still jittery and look like someone who had had way too many nights cut short."

Peter bought himself some time by slowly taking another sip, but Strange was patient.

"Can't you just... you know, look back and check what it was...?" he cringed. "I'm not very..."

"No. Half of the solution is you telling me about it in your own words."

He lowered his head, putting his cheek against the cool wood.

"I dream about dying," he said finally.

The wizard in his peripheral vision nodded slowly.

"That can keep a man awake."

"No, I... I fall asleep. And then I dream about..." he swallowed and squeezed his eyes shut. "About that planet. And us, there. And..."

Silence.

"And I felt it. Before it started happening. I felt it. My whole brain was shrieking, because it felt things coming apart. I wanted to tell Tony, but I couldn't find the words. It was as if my brain was too busy panicking to manage talking. Or walking. Or anything normal. I saw the others go..." he took a shaky breath. "I saw you go. Drax, he, he looked like he had felt something, right? He managed to say something to Quill. But the others, they just fell apart. And you knew it was coming, didn't you? You knew..." a pause, to gather his thoughts. "But I felt it, felt my cells coming apart. They split a bit before we actually got dusted. I felt them. I heard my body slightly rip, all over me. Do you know that this... this thing that happened, it has a smell? It's not blood, it's more like rot and dust."

"How precise are your senses?"

The question made him blink.

"Put a pinch of poppyseeds on the back of my hand and I'll count them," he answered immediately. "We've tried. Sometimes I miss one."

A heavy silence.

"I'm sorry," the wizard said finally. "There was no other way, Peter. I knew, in general, what would happen. I didn't know that there would be such..." he paused. "Such an ugly outcome. I could only hope for the solution to come and for everyone to do what they could. I didn't... didn't look into individuals. No time, even when one is travelling in it."

"But you knew what would happen," he whispered.

"I didn't know to whom. I only could be sure about myself, Banner and Tony Stark. Everyone else was..."

Silence.

"Secondary to the goal," Peter supplied finally.

"After a fashion."

"Was there some other..."

"No. The Decimation happened whatever we did. There were cases in which Thanos did what he threatened to do to us on the second attempt - focused his powers on one specific enemy. Earth, Asgardians... One option was tempting, because he got rid of all Kree, but that one also led to us never coming back. And it saw Banner killed, for unrelated reasons."

"And without doctor Banner, there would have been nobody to snap us all back."

"Or Tony would have done it, but then would have been unable to remove the armies."

He shivered.

"The only option?"

"The only one I could find."

A beat.

"But I'm sorry you were taken with us. I am probably one of the few people who can say they know what you went through," the cool voice was not that cool anymore.

He looked up, frowning.

"I knew it was coming," Stephen Strange said, watching the cup with a stony face. "I've gone through it thousands upon thousands of times. By the time the real thing happened, my body was so tightly wound up I felt it coming as a blazing storm over my neural system."

Peter swallowed through the tightness in his throat.

"That was after the first ones separated," he said. "The feeling of wrongness was first, then I saw all of you coming apart and then... then it was like a fire across my skin and up my spine, and I had to lie down, because it was becoming hard to talk and then I was floating away, piece by piece and I managed to say something - it's hard when there are no muscles to push your lungs - and I was watching him and..."

Long, strong hand caught his wrist.

"And that's what you are dreaming about?"

Nod turned out to be the only answer he could give.

"Me too."

Ah.

"I can help you forget, if you wish," Strange ventured finally. "I can erase the key parts, the pain. You will know it was awful, but you won't feel it anymore."

Peter thought about it for a moment.

He looked up.

"No, thank you," he said in a tone that was surprisingly even, even to him. "I think I'd rather remember what it costs when we lose like this."


End file.
